


Alternative Medicine

by sjhw_tolerance (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/sjhw_tolerance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack doesn't return as scheduled after the replicator attack, Sam goes to Atlantis to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternative Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> For the wonderful and awesome icon maker supplyship, I bring this humble offering of fic. I fear it is not as brilliant as the incredible icons for which I bartered, but it has Sam & Jack kissing, so all is not lost. ;-)
> 
> I hope this little fic does the trick! Set during SGA Season Three (SG1 Season 10), post The Return 1 & 2.
> 
> Originally posted June 2010.

ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE

Sam Carter slipped into the control room behind one of the on-duty gate technicians, the jumper from Atlantis was due any minute and she needed to see for herself that he was okay. It was a risky plan, only a few people were aware of her changed relationship with the General and while she had spent years perfecting her emotional control where Jack O’Neill was concerned, this was the first time in recent memory that she hadn’t be there to guard his six and it gnawed at her insides. She’d slip in, satisfy her immediate need to see him alive and well, and then slip out unseen until they could have a proper reunion later.   
.   
A plan which was scuttled when General Landry, without turning around, suddenly announced, “Colonel Carter, not a completely unexpected pleasure to have you join us.”

Sam’s brief smile was more of a grimace as she made her way to the front of the control room, the gathered group of technicians and other onlookers melting out of her way until she was standing next to Landry. As one of the select few who knew of their relationship, Landry’s smile was understanding. “A little anxious?”

She nodded. “Just a little.” 

“We’re receiving confirmation that the jumper has left the midway station,” Walter piped in, which was immediately confirmed by the activation of their Stargate.

Some of Sam’s anxiety was abated with Walter’s announcement. Was it only a little over a week ago that she’d smilingly seen a grumbling Jack off to Atlantis to act as an intermediary between the Lanteans and Woolsey? She was still a little vague as to why the Lanteans needed Jack, but she could understand finding Woolsey trying and evidently the President had been in agreement. Whether Jack liked it or not, his diplomatic skills had grown and become finely honed since he’d been in Washington, something she still occasionally found amazing. 

But then it had all gone to hell and she was the one left behind and worried sick about his fate. Landry had been kind and understanding, but there was only so much he could tell her and she hadn’t slept at all until she was finally informed that the Replicators had been defeated—and that Jack was okay. She’d already wangled two weeks leave from Landry and from previous experience, she was confident that Jack would have at least that much of enforced time off. Two weeks of nothing to do but…well, they’d think of something she was sure.

With a brief nod from Landry, Walter opened the iris and while it seemed an eternity to Sam, it could have only been a few brief moments before the jumper whooshed through the gate, gracefully stopping and hovering in mid-air. Sam eagerly scanned what little of the interior she could see for Jack, but there wasn’t a sign of his silver hair gleaming anywhere in the front part of the jumper. Okay, so he was in the back, as soon as…Sam squinted, identifying the pilot, as soon as Lorne docked the jumper, she’d see him.

“Permission to land, sir?” Lorne’s voice sounded over the speakers.

“Welcome to Earth, Major,” Landry replied. “You know where to park.” The jumper ascended, disappearing from view. Landry turned to her, “You might as well wait in the briefing room, Colonel. I expect that will be their first stop.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Sam answered, following Landry up the metal stairs leading to the briefing room. Once there, she found she couldn’t sit, pacing in front of the windows instead, occasionally glancing through the window to the office where Landry had retreated, apparently engrossed in paperwork. Sam looked at her watch, as if she could make time move faster. What was taking them so long? Of course, Jack didn’t know she was waiting for him, she consoled herself. So he was taking his time, maybe he’d run into Siler and the two of them were catching up on old times. 

Oh god, she was letting her worry get the best of her if she was dreaming up scenarios, which didn’t stop her from looking at her watch again. She shook her wrist, she didn’t think it was working, the hands had barely moved. Sighing, she stopped pacing and gazed down at the Stargate. Just relax, she told herself, he’ll be here any minute and everything will be all right. She’d barely finished her internal pep talk when she heard the sound of voices and footsteps in the hall. Sam whirled around, a big smile on her face, which quickly faded when she saw the two men who entered the room—Richard Woolsey and Major Lorne.

“Where’s General O’Neill?” she asked, forcing her voice to remain calm. 

Lorne’s expression was somber and Woolsey frowned, looking uncomfortable. “Yes…well, perhaps we should wait for General Landry before we discuss the situation on Atlantis.”

“Mr. Woolsey,” Landry boomed, stepping out of his office. “I think both Colonel Carter and I are interested in why General O’Neill didn’t return with you from Atlantis.” Landry stood at the end of the briefing table. “Gentlemen and Colonel,” he said, nodding at her. “Shall we sit down?”

Lorne and Woolsey sat down and Sam followed suit, sitting across from them and folding her hands on the table in front of her, keeping her emotions firmly under control. She was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Jack hadn’t returned with Woolsey; Sam waited tensely, fully aware that it was Landry’s show now. 

“Now perhaps you can tell us why General O’Neill isn’t with you?”

“General O’Neill collapsed right as he was boarding the jumper,” Woolsey said. Sam gasped softly, earning a speculative look from Lorne and an alarmed one from Woolsey. “When he didn’t regain consciousness right away, Doctor Beckett decided to keep him on Atlantis a bit longer.” Sam remained silent and Woolsey seemed to gather more confidence. “I didn’t see any reason to delay the departure of the jumper.”

“The city is only operating at minimal levels right now,” Lorne added. “We desperately need the supplies and personnel scheduled for the jumper’s return.”

“General Landry, sir—” Sam interjected, only to be interrupted by Landry.

“You did the right thing, Woolsey. I will anxiously await your full report, but for now I suggest you report to the infirmary and get checked out by Doctor Lam.” Continuing to ignore her, Landry turned his attention to Lorne. “The same goes for you too, Major. Once you’re finished, report to my office.” 

Woolsey looked like he wanted to protest, but Lorne stood up. “Come on, Mr. Woolsey,” he commented lightly. “I’ll show you the way.”

The two men were scarcely out of the room when Sam once more said, “Genera Landry, sir, what about—”

Landry held up his hand. “I already know what you’re going to ask, Colonel. Major Lorne and his jumper are scheduled for a forty-eight hour turn around. I believe there will be some standing room only space for you.” Landry stood then and Sam quickly got to her feet. “Just make sure your projects here are under control before you leave.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” she said. When he walked past her, she reached out and touched his arm. “Sir? I really appreciate this.”

She thought his eyes softened a little bit and he replied gruffly, “Look on it as a favor for an old friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam thought it was a nice gesture when Lorne invited her to sit in the co-pilot seat on the jumper. Granted, there wasn’t much piloting to do while jumping gates, even if they were traveling between galaxies. Ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the personnel crammed into the jumper, she slid into the seat. It seemed odd to see Lorne sitting in the pilot’s seat; every other time she’d been in a jumper, Jack had been at the controls. The young major seemed at ease, his hands resting easily on the controls, the displays responding to his lightest touch. 

Sam thought she kind of missed Jack’s eyes-closed-by-the-seat-of-his-pants technique. Jack…she squelched down the fear that had been eating away at her insides since the jumper had arrived without him forty-eight hours earlier. She’d spent the last two days in her lab, immersed in work, keeping herself too busy to think about Jack. Her team-mates had done their best to console her and when that didn’t work, to distract her; and thankfully they had given up before she’d had kick them out of her lab. All except for Teal’c, who made it his duty to make sure she ate, by either bringing her meals to the lab or coercing her to accompany him to the dining hall. And since it was easier to go along with Teal’c than to dissuade him, she’d gracefully acquiesced. She couldn’t help but wonder though if Jack had some kind of ‘take care of Sam while I’m gone’ deal going on with Teal’c. 

Which brought her worried thoughts back full circle.

Jack…he had to be okay. Collapsing was just a more manly word than fainting, she rationalized. Over-work, stress, low blood sugar, there were dozens of reasons that could cause a person to collapse. Of course, amongst those dozens of reasons were also brain hemorrhage, heart attack and stroke. Get a grip, she chastised herself, instinctively bracing when the jumper slowly glided towards the event horizon. Whatever had happened to him had to be nothing; she hadn’t come this far to lose him now.

Sam let out her breath, feeling slightly disoriented after the longer than usual wormhole journey. She heard one unfortunate person in the back of the jumper gagging and she took another deep breath, fighting down her momentary queasiness. Lorne appeared calm and unaffected; already busy uploading the macro for their journey to the Pegasus gate system. She knew they wouldn’t be at the midway station long, and as anxious as she was to get to Atlantis, she never the less peered curiously out the front window at the basic infrastructure of the nascent midway station. It was an amazing feat of engineering and she was impressed, but she’d be more impressed when they landed at Atlantis.

“Atlantis, this is Jumper Three, leaving Midway Station.”

“Roger, Jumper Three. Status is go.”

Lorne gave her a sympathetic look and she wondered how much he knew or had guessed. “Almost there, Colonel.” Sam summoned up a smile for him and he nodded before announcing to the rest of the passengers. “We’re a go, people. Atlantis, here we come.”  
Materializing in the gate room on Atlantis wasn’t quite as disorienting as their arrival on midway station. Sam looked around curiously, patiently waiting as their passengers disembarked. It looked the same as she remembered, if nothing else, at least the Replicators had made a good repair job on the central tower. When the congestion on the small ship had diminished, Sam hefted up her duffel and joined them, carefully trailing behind an airman who still looked a little green. As they exited the jumper, several people with clipboards were busy checking off names and directing the new arrivals. Sam knew it was early evening on Atlantis, so she chalked up the large number of people present in the gate room to their arrival and the resettling of the city. Skirting around one especially large cluster of personnel, Sam made her way to the front of the jumper and the main staircase. 

“Welcome back, Major. And Colonel Carter.” Elizabeth Weir stood at the base of the stairs, a pleasant smile on her face in spite of her obvious surprise when she saw Sam. “General Landry didn’t mention that you’d be returning with Major Lorne,” she said, giving Lorne a pointed before looking back at her. “To what do we owe this honor?” she enquired politely.

“I’ve come to see my husband.”

Sam had to give Weir credit, she barely blinked at the blunt statement. “Of course,” the other woman replied, still with her gracious smile. Weir looked around the various groups clustered around the jumper and called out, “Teyla?” 

The dark-haired woman looked up from her clipboard and when she saw them, she said something to the airman next to her and crossed over to where they stood. “Yes, Elizabeth?”

“Teyla, you remember Colonel Carter?” Teyla gracefully inclined her head and Elizabeth continued. “Good. She’s come to see her husband. I believe General O’Neill is still in the infirmary. Will you escort her there?”

“Of course.” Teyla’s smile was kind. “If you’ll come with me?”

Sam nodded to both Doctor Weir and Lorne, shifting her duffel on her shoulder and easily following into step with Teyla as she walked briskly towards one of the many corridors that radiated from the gate room. Sam had only seen a small part of the complex when she’d been there months earlier with the rest of her team and she looked around curiously as they walked down the various corridors. “General O’Neill is a remarkable man,” Teyla commented when they reached the door of one of the elevator-like transports. “If it were not for his actions, we would not have been able to defeat the Replicators and save Atlantis.” 

“He is a remarkable man,” Sam agreed, following Teyla into the elevator. 

The door silently glided shut and Teyla pushed one of the elaborate buttons. “You must be very worried to have come all this way.”

The movement of the elevator was almost imperceptible, yet Sam still felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. “It’s been…difficult.” She didn’t normally open up to people she barely knew, but there was just something so kind and understand in Teyla’s face, that she continued. “This is the first time in…well, a long time that I haven’t been there to watch his back.” Sam summoned up a brief smile. “And so of course, something happens to him.”

The door slid open and Teyla stepped out and waited for her. “I’m sure he is fine. Doctor Beckett is an excellent physician.”

Sam followed; this corridor was a bit busier, lots of bustle and light and sound. They rounded a corner and Sam didn’t need to be told they were at the infirmary. The controlled chaos, along with the ever-familiar medical equipment and supplies scattered about, confirmed their location. Teyla stood poised in the middle of the room, scanning the room and eventually calling out, “Doctor Beckett!”

One of the men walking by paused in mid-step and turned towards them; Sam recognized him immediately from pictures she’d seen, Doctor Carson Beckett. He stopped in front of Teyla, looking her up and down quickly before he asked, “Teyla, what brings you down here? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine. I have brought Colonel Carter to see her husband.”

Beckett frowned, a puzzled look on his face. “Husband?”

“General Jack O’Neill,” Sam said sharply, her fear and anxiety creeping into her voice. “is my husband. And I want to see him.” 

“Ah, General O’Neill.” Becket regrouped quickly enough. “Yes well, he’s not here.”

“Not here?” Sam dropped her duffel and took a step towards the doctor; Teyla, Sam noted, had moved a discreet distance away. “What’s happened to him?”

“It’s not what you think, Colonel,” Beckett said hurriedly. “General O’Neill is fine, I merely discharged him.”

“Oh, thank god,” Sam said, suddenly feeling very weak in the knees.

“It’s okay, lass.” Beckett put an arm around her waist and she leaned against him, gratefully sinking down into the chair that suddenly appeared in front of her. “Put your head down between your knees,” he instructed, his burr becoming even thicker. “Take some deep breaths. You’ll be okay in a minute.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, the spots before her eyes fading away and giving her a clear view of her boots. Taking a deep breath, she slowly raised her head and gazed into the concerned eyes of the doctor. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

His smile was kind, his hand automatically reaching for her wrist and feeling her pulse. “Understandable,” he said, releasing her wrist. “Stress has a way of catching up with even the strongest of us.”

“If you released him, he must be okay?” Sam asked, still worried.

“Aye, that he is,” Beckett answered. “Nothing wrong with him that a few days of rest and fluids couldn’t cure.”

“But they said he collapsed?”

“From exhaustion, lass. Nothing more than that.” Beckett gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid General O’Neill isn’t as young as he used to be and fighting off the Replicators took more out of him than we initially realized. I was also afraid he might have picked up a wee bit of pneumonia after his prolonged immersion in the ocean. The water temperature this time of year can quickly lead to hypothermia.”

“Wait,” Sam asked, “he was in the ocean?”

Teyla stepped forward. “In order to access the city after the Replicators took over, we were required to enter through one of the underwater jumper bays. Unfortunately the bay was flooded and General O’Neill was the only one who could access the flooded control room.”

“Holy Hannah,” Sam muttered, wondering what else had happened that she hadn’t been told. Deciding she could wait for Jack’s version she asked again, “But you’re sure that nothing’s wrong with him? No pneumonia?”

“He is blessedly healthy for a man his age, my dear,” Beckett reassured her.

Sam sighed, relieved that Jack was reportedly okay; however she knew she wouldn’t be entirely convinced until she saw him for herself. “Well,” she said, cautiously standing up and turning towards Teyla. “Can you take me to his quarters?”

“Of course,” the woman replied immediately.

“Ah…I don’t think the general went to his quarters,” Beckett said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Teyla raised an expressive eyebrow and Sam frowned, waiting for him to continue. “Colonel Sheppard happened to be here when he was released and said he’d take care of him.”

The change of expression on Teyla’s face was so subtle, Sam almost missed it; but she’d have to blind to miss the resigned look that passed between the doctor and the woman. “And you released him with Colonel Sheppard because?” Sam asked, more curious now than worried.

Beckett sighed, his discomfort evident in the thickness of his accent. “Your husband is not the most agreeable patient, lass. When Colonel Sheppard stopped by to see him and offered to look after him, it seemed like the most prudent course of action.”

“I see.” And she did, Jack’s reputation as a bad patient was well known, and apparently universal now. “So, where will I find Colonel Sheppard and my husband?” 

Teyla smiled. “I believe I know where they are.” When Sam reached down to once more pick up her duffel, Teyla laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Carson,” she addressed the doctor, “would you have someone take Colonel Carter’s bag to her husband’s quarters?” 

“That’s not really necessary,” Sam protested, she didn’t want to cause any more trouble, but Beckett had already called one of the orderlies over so she gracefully murmured her thanks and once more followed Teyla out into the hallway. “So,” she said, walking alongside the Athosian, “just where would Colonel Sheppard ‘look after’ my husband?”

“It is Thursday evening,” Teyla said, the faintest hint of a smile in her voice. “There is only one place John Sheppard would be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sheppard, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not fired after all.” 

General Jack O’Neill sat back in his chair, blowing out a puff of smoke from the very fine Cuban cigar he held in one hand. In his other hand, he was in the possession of a straight flush, queen high, which would most certainly garner him the very fine pile of chips in the middle of the table. Resting his cigar in an ashtray, Jack took a swallow from the bottle of Guinness that had appeared just as mysteriously as the cigars, cards and the poker chips had when he’d been ushered into what Sheppard somewhat mysteriously called his ‘library’. There was a stack of books leaning haphazardly in one corner, along with a cooler containing the beer, a well-used leather sofa along one wall and the table around which the four of them sat.

When Beckett had finally released him from the infirmary and into Sheppard’s custody, Jack had been fully intent on ditching the younger man just as soon as possible, but when Sheppard had offered to make up for everything that he had recently suffered, Jack had been intrigued. Sheppard’s library was located on the upper tower level of one of the more deserted arms of the city. The spacious room was light and airy, the stained glass windows gleaming brightly from the setting sun, a perfect place to sit and relax over a friendly game of cards. Jack figured if Beckett wouldn’t approve of the beer and cigars, he’d at least approve of the fresh air and pleasant ocean breeze that circulated through the open windows, keeping the air from becoming smoky and stale.

“Glad to hear that, sir,” Sheppard commented, a cigar clenched between his teeth and a slight frown on his face. “I’m out,” he finally said, tossing his cards face down on the table.

McKay smirked slightly, laying his cards down on the table with a flourish. “Straight, ten high,” he said with a smug grin.

Ronon grunted and tossed his cards down, clearly not happy with his pair of tens. Jack allowed himself a slight smile when he laid his cards down, inordinately pleased with McKay’s huff of displeasure and crestfallen look when the other man saw the cards. “Sorry, McKay. Straight flush, queen high.” Jack reached out and pulled the pile of chips over to his side of the table, adding to the already considerable pile there.

Sheppard retrieved the cards and started shuffling. “That’s what, your third straight flush?” Jack nodded. Sheppard had played reasonably well, as had Ronon. The straight McKay had been so proud of was the only hand on which he hadn’t folded and Jack might have felt sorry for him if the scientist hadn’t been responsible for almost drowning him. 

“What are the odds of that, Rodney?” Sheppard asked, setting the deck down for Ronon to cut.

“I’d say less than one one-hundredth of a chance to one,” said a feminine voice from behind Jack.

“Sam!” McKay got a besotted smile on his face and jumped up immediately, jostling the table and almost toppling the beer bottles. 

Jack steadied his bottle and closed his eyes for one brief moment. Busted…he was so busted. 

“Colonel Carter,” Sheppard drawled coolly, giving Teyla a sideways glance before dealing out the next hand. “What brings you to our fair city?”

“Oh, when my husband collapsed and didn’t return to Earth as scheduled, I thought I’d better come check on him.”’

“Husband? You’re married?” McKay sounded aghast and if Jack hadn’t been so worried his wife was about to hand him his ass on a platter, he’d have been amused. As it was, he decided to tread very carefully.

“Sam,” he finally said, twisting around on his chair and giving his wife a tentative smile. “Good to see you, too.” 

Beneath her somewhat stern expression, Jack caught the faintest twinkle in her blue eyes. “You’re looking remarkably well,” she commented dryly.

Jack shrugged and answered casually, gesturing towards the windows and belatedly realizing he had a smoking cigar in his hands. “It’s the ocean air.” 

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he braced himself for her next words when McKay blurted out, “Wait, you’re married to him?”

All eyes turned towards McKay, who still stood looking back and forth between him and Sam like he couldn’t believe that she was married to him. To be honest, Jack still had the odd, fleeting moment when he couldn’t believe he was married to her, but that was mostly because he couldn’t believe his luck. However, now that it seemed his wife wasn’t going to kill him for the time being, or at least in front of any witnesses, Jack found he was just a bit annoyed by McKay’s continued disbelief. And it seemed Sam was too. “Yes, Rodney,” she said, using her over-patient voice, “we’re married. What don’t you understand?”

“Well, ah…nothing,” the usually pompous scientist blustered, clearly having the wind knocked out of him. He sat back down, looking a bit pale and Jack almost felt sorry for the man—almost. “Congratulations, best wishes and all that.”

Both Ronon and Sheppard looked amused by Rodney’s discomfort and Jack allowed himself a slight smile. The card game, cigar and Guinness had helped improve his mood, but seeing McKay taken down a peg or two had been priceless. 

“Jack?”

“Ah, right,” he said quickly, not missing the slight warning in his wife’s voice. The cards were dealt; Ronon, Sheppard and even McKay looked at him expectantly; and Jack, searching for a gracious way to exit, turned to Teyla. “If it’s okay with the others, would you mind playing out my hand?”

The dark haired woman smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So,” his wife said, slipping her arm through his as they walked through the hallways of the city. “Not your usual diplomatic mission, eh?” She chuckled then, leaning her head against his shoulder for a brief moment. “No, I take that back. It was exactly like your usual diplomatic mission.”

“Hey,” he replied mildly, not too annoyed with her mostly valid comment but not willing to let it pass. “The Lanteans asked for me. Besides, everything was going smoothly until the Replicators showed up.” He felt the shiver that ran through her and added, “It wasn’t that bad.”

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, her hand slipped from his arm and she gave him a hard look. “Don’t lie to me. I know exactly how bad it is.” 

Beneath her stern look he could see the fear and worry in her eyes and with total disregard for the few personnel in their immediate vicinity he pulled her into his arms. She clung to him tightly and he buried his face in her hair. The only way he had kept his sanity over the years was to not worry about what could have happened, but when he held her like this, all soft and warm and full of fear for him, he felt her pain like it was his own. He wanted to do so much more than hold her, but even allowing for the slightly less-formal atmosphere on Atlantis, a hallway still wasn’t a wise choice.

“My quarters,” he murmured roughly. “Now.” For a moment he didn’t think she was going to let go of him, but she finally did, once more slipping her arm through his. Jack didn’t waste any time, guiding her through the corridors until they reached his guest quarters located in a quiet upper level hallway not too far from the main crew quarters. 

The door glided open with a mere wave of his hand past the sensor and they were safely in the spacious guest quarters. The last fading rays of the setting sun glowed faintly through the large bank of windows in his quarters, the faint sound of the waves and smell of the sea a darn sight better than the sounds and smells of the infirmary. But right now the only thing on his mind was his wife and the wonderfully soft bed waiting for them. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam murmured between kisses as he slowly shuffled them across the room.

“I’m sure,” he answered, tugging at the hem of her T-shirt. She was already shrugging her BDU shirt off, still managing to kiss him almost senseless between each bit of clothing that ended up tossed carelessly on the floor. With very little effort, his clothing joined hers in a tangled pile and he drew her down onto the bed with him. Looming over her, he studied her open expression, her clear blue eyes shimmering with love and lingering traces of concern. 

Jack delicately caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb lightly across her full lips. “The only thing wrong with me,” he rumbled, “is that I’ve missed you like hell.”

Sam’s lips curved in a satisfied smile and she shifted, pulling him closer and wrapping one slender leg around his hips. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” she declared, her lips meeting his in a hungry kiss. He kissed her deeply, relearning her taste and the smooth sweetness of her lips. He had missed her, he missed her every moment they were apart—and it wasn’t just the sex, he missed her keen intelligence and enthusiasm for all things scientific, he missed just being with her and seeing her smile and hearing her voice. Every moment they were together was all the more precious because of the time they were apart.

And he knew she missed him too, her eager kisses and caresses matching his passion, rushing them deeper and deeper into desire. There would be time later for the slow lingering kisses and touches; now was about satisfying the burning need fueled by separation and near-death. Rising over her, Jack gazed into her passion-dark eyes, sliding into her and filling her just as completely as she filled his very soul.

“Jack.” His wife moaned his name softly, her breath catching when he shifted, pressing deeper and moving in a steady rhythm against her. “Yes,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his hips and clinging tighter to him. “Jack,” she cried out, gasping and clinging to him. She surrendered to him with a grace and beauty that never failed to amaze and humble him—and brought about his own surrender as moments later he gasped her name, falling with her into ecstasy. 

Once he could think again and had regained control of his trembling muscles, Jack carefully collapsed on her, nestling into her soft curves, spent and totally satisfied. Sam sighed, cradling him with her body; her hands idly drifting down his back in long, slow caresses. Jack nuzzled her neck and sighed himself, feeling very fortunate indeed. The run-in with the replicators had been another close one; he thought he had moved beyond the stage in his career where he was expected to pull off damn big heroic actions, especially the aquatic ones. 

“I was so worried,” she murmured, lightly raking her fingers through his short hair.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, nuzzling her neck again for good measure. “I thought Weir or somebody would have sent word through to Landry that I was okay.” 

The hand stroking his hair drifted to his shoulder and when she gently pushed, Jack reluctantly shifted off her. She moved, raising up on one elbow and gazing down at him; he could see the contentment in her blue eyes, along with some lingering worry that surprised him. “You’re really okay?” she asked, one hand lightly caressing his cheek before gliding down his chest to rest over his heart. “There isn’t something that you or Beckett haven’t told me?”

“I’m fine, Sam,” he reassured her. “I mean, there was the whole hand in the head thing with those damn replicators—” She made a soft sound of distress and he smiled wryly and said, “Woolsey had it worse than I did.” She didn’t look convinced and he knew it would take some time before she really believed him. “Oh,” he added suddenly, “if McKay ever tells you that the manual override in a flooded jumper bay will be obvious, don’t believe him.”

“Duly noted,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

When she snuggled down next to him, Jack wrapped his arms around her, watching as the last of the light faded away into darkness, the stars slowly twinkling into view. “When do you have to return to the SGC?” he asked, idly stroking her hair. He knew the mere fact that she was here with him was completely due to Landry’s largesse and he didn’t want to take too much advantage of the other man’s unexpected goodwill, there were still at war with the Ori, after all. 

“Well, I suppose that depends on the availability of a transport between here and there. I am currently on a two week leave and really,” she added, her tone completely innocent, “it wouldn’t be right to commandeer a jumper and waste all those resources for personal reasons.”

“No, you’re right,” he agreed, deciding he liked how she was spinning the reasons for an extended stay on Atlantis. Being a general had its privileges and Elizabeth had kept him in the loop; he knew the Daedalus wasn’t due for at least another three weeks and they had agreed to conserve personnel and resources by sending a jumper back to Earth through the Midway station once a week. Furthermore, he also figured after saving the Pegasus Galaxy and Atlantis from the Replicators, the universe owed him a few days off with his best girl. 

“Well, I’m sure no one will miss us for a few days; plus I’m technically still recuperating from an enemy attack. And besides,” he grinned, with Sam in his arms, he felt very pleased with life at the moment, “I understand the fishing here is really good.”

THE END


End file.
